As we were leaving the restaurant she said to me, “Kristine, you are obviously in your late forties. I want to tell you, you look great. There’s not a wrinkle on you!”
I am not in my late forties. And I knew the polite thing to do was to accept the compliment with grace and thank the woman. But I couldn’t do it.
“Actually, I’m forty-two. But I appreciate the compliment very much.”
“Forty-two,” she said. “Well, you’re a young one then!”
Holy shit! Wait a second! That means that an eighty-nine year old woman’s gut instinct was to categorize me as NOT YOUNG?
I felt sick. A burst of heat emanated from the center of my body. There’s no doubt. It was my very first hot flash.